Monday, November 5, 2012
The more we read, the less we see.
— Herbert Bayer, “On Typography”
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Actually, we can never give anything up; we only exchange one thing for another.
— Sigmund Freud, “Creative Writers and Day-Dreaming”
Saturday, November 3, 2012
These consciously remembered mental impulses of childhood embody the factor which enables us to understand the nature of myths.
— Sigmund Freud, “Family Romances”
Friday, November 2, 2012
It is always dangerous to assume that one’s own time has an exceptional importance.
— Sigfried Giedion, Space, Time and Architecture
Thursday, November 1, 2012
I walk slow.
— Mumford and Sons, “Lovers’ Eyes”
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
They go back and forth. Back and forth. I don’t know how they stand it. I don’t know how they stand it.
— Virginia
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
I had less success arguing that the States’ greatest virtue was its wide-open spaces where people never went.
— James Watson, The Double Helix
Monday, October 29, 2012
We breathe as deeply and fully as if our chest were as wide as the hall.
— Heinrich Wolfflin, Prolegomena to a Psychology of Architecture
Sunday, October 28, 2012
If we wanted applause, we would have joined the circus.
— Jack O'Donnell, Argo
Saturday, October 27, 2012
There is no such thing as an independently existing trajectory.
— Albert Einstein, Relativity
Friday, October 26, 2012
It is not always easy to tell the truth, especially when one has to be concise.
— Sigmund Freud, Five Lectures on Psycho-Analysis
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Nobody can do. The shing-a-ling. Like I do.
— The Human Beinz, "Nobody But Me"
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
And whiles we should fall to muse on the times when all the ways of nature were mere wonders to men, yet so well beloved by them that they called them by men’s names and gave them deeds of men to do: and many a time there would come before us memories of the deeds of past times, and of the aspirations of those mighty peoples whose deaths have made our lives, and their sorrows our joys. How could we keep silence all of this? and what voice could tell it but the voice of art: and what audience for such a tale would content us but all men living on the earth?
This is what Architecture hopes to be: it will have this life, or else death; and it is for us now living between the past and the future to say whether it shall live or die.
This is what Architecture hopes to be: it will have this life, or else death; and it is for us now living between the past and the future to say whether it shall live or die.
— William Morris, The Prospects of Architecture in Civilisation
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Knowledge is scalable.
— Lucia Allais
Monday, October 22, 2012
America remains the one indispensable nation.
— President Obama, 10/22/12 Presidential Debate
Sunday, October 21, 2012
This is a Romeo Fox Trot. Shall we dance?
— Kilgore, Apocalypse Now
Saturday, October 20, 2012
It doesn’t really bother me, except for it’s forever. When I think about forever I get upset. Like the Land o’ Lakes butter has that Indian girl. Sitting, holding a box. And it has a picture of her on it, holding a box. With a picture of her on it, holding a box. Have you ever noticed that?
— Sally Draper, “Blowing Smoke,” Mad Men
Friday, October 19, 2012
But you surely told me to listen, not to words, but to thought. How can I follow, if you are always thinking ahead of the words? You seem to take delight in it.
— Louis H. Sullivan, “Function and Form”
Thursday, October 18, 2012
He’s just been around so long he knows everything.
— Phil, Groundhog Day
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Taste is the smiling surface of a lake whose depths are great, impenetrable and cold.
— John Summerson, “William Butterfield; Or, The Glory Of Ugliness”